Wishing for Sunny Skies
by Heartspin
Summary: He knew magic was real, he knew it! As a child Harry finds himself thrown into M.E, and after some time is quite sure he never wishes to leave his new found family. His presence alone, though, has altered the course of events for both his world and M.E. Though how will only be seen in time.
1. Chapter 1

**Wishing for Sunny Skies**

**Chapter 1**

It wasn't cold nor terribly hot out. Perhaps a bit musty, but that was to be expected in mid-June. It wasn't the cramped space of the cupboard that upset him, he thought lip quivering as he feebly picked away at the edge of the door.

"Please, uncle. Please," a small sob escaped him which he held his mouth tight shut. Crying wasn't allowed. He shifted again, straining his eyes to where he knew the door lay wishing, hoping beyond hope that he could chance some light. It was the darkness, the darkness that his uncle was sure he was bathed in that made him feel as though he could not breath, could not think. He had been locked in the cupboard for longer than normal, and his uncle had tightly tucked a towel around the crack at the bottom to ensure no light came through.

Loudly, like a stampeding elephant, the man stormed from the kitchen where he had been reading his papers over some afternoon tea, over to where he locked his nephew away. The large man wrenched the door open and grasped his meaty hand around the scrawny boy.

Large green eyes shining with unshed tears pleaded up at him, and he threw the boy down hissing,"What. Did. I. Say. About. Crying?!"

Breathing deeply, so as to try and control his sobs he stammered," Freaks like me don't get to cry. I am sorry, so sorry uncle Vernon. I just, I hate the dark so much. Please. "Harry huddled on the floor, staring at where he thought his uncles feet where. It was so bright, it having been midday and light was pouring through all the windows. He smiled inwardly, knowing he was in trouble for begging, but to be allowed some light and out of the dark cramped cupboard was worth it.

His uncle went from red to purple, and the boy shrunk. He knew he had been asking a lot from the man , the man who constantly reminded him that he had been taken in out of charity since his good for nothing parents died in a car crash. But the darkness in the small cupboard had been suffocating, to say the least, and he yearned for the sunlight. But ever since Thursday at school he had been promised an extended punishment for his freakishness.

He honestly had not meant to jump so high- for how else did he make it to the top of the school while Dudley and his gang chased him? Dudley had loudly claimed later on that Harry had been saying spells, and casting magic, to which Harry pleaded with his aunt and uncle that he 'knew' magic was not real, and he 'knew' things like that were not allowed in the Dursleys'. Though it had been only a week before he had been caught reading 'The Lost Years of Merlin' by his aunt Petunia, and he felt as though he were still being punished for that.

Now it was Sunday. He had gone straight into the cupboard after school Friday, and had not been allowed out until now. His aunt had left with Dudley to go shopping and his uncle had opted to stay home and get some of his paperwork done before having to return to work the next day. Harry had been trying really hard not to cry, but the thought of his cousin, whom only a little while ago, had been been allowed to go out and be free to go outside, he couldn't help but pity himself.

"I-I am sorry," he attempted to say more but was cut short as his uncle cuffed him over the head hard. He hit the wall and whimpered going tightly into a ball. His uncle rarely hit him anywhere that could be seen by the school or neighbors, only when he was really upset. Harry shivered as sensed the fat man attempting to control his rage but it seemed to be impossible, as for the boys tears were now flowing freely down his face.

"Shut up, shut up, shut. Up! "The man grabbed the boy and punched him in the side several times before throwing him to the door.

Harry wasn't sure how it happened; just that he knew that he was going to be beaten and was frightened. It was rare his uncle came up to the point of rage beyond a smack or two, sometimes a swift kick to the ribs, but once before he had been beaten so hard he was out of school for the week and had to work hard to conceal the limp afterword's. That had been when he had only been a year ago shortly after his eighth birthday. Memories of that came back and he just remembered reaching for the door, wishing so deeply, with his whole being that he could be anywhere.

Somehow the door opened, even though it was the opposite way it was supposed to open, and he went flying through. Tumbling he found himself coughing on dirt and leaves, sputtering. The light was bright to his eyes so he was unable to see, he was shaking but he didn't let that stop him from stumbling up to his feet and attempting to run down the road.

He stumbled off for a few moments, his sight adjusting enough to make out a tree before collapsing in a fit of tears at the base of it. He held his mouth, trying to sob silently as possible in fear of his uncle finding him. After a few moments, he forced his breath to even though that didn't stop him from trembling like a leaf. His eyes fully adjusted, and he was surprised he could see perfectly fine even without his glasses. Blinking his surprise made him forget his tears, or the reason why his face throbbed

It was clear he was nowhere near Privet Drive, he doubted he was even in Little Whinging anymore. Not a house was in sight, no roads or cars. Straining his ears he didn't hear any noise associated with living in the city, and the air smelled fresh. Looking around he also noticed Autumn leaves had fallen and a crisp breeze caused him to shiver in both fear and cold.

"Where am I," he murmured to himself, all too used to one sided conversation. He pushed off the tree gently and called out," he-hello. Anyone there?"

He glanced side to side and shivered rubbing his arms. It had been summer only moments before, so he was only wearing a baggy t-shirt and khaki shorts that had fit almost like pants since they used to belong to Dudley were now in a pool about his feet-his belt must have came loose he concluded so overcome with all that was happening he missed that, even though the shirt had normally be a bit large on him, it now fit him like a dress. He also was bare foot considering he had been inside.

Taking a step he stumbled and blinked something about his movement had signaled to him something was off. Or perhaps it was how close to the ground he was despite the fact he was nine, though never tall, he knew he should have been farther up.

Looking down he saw his legs had become short stumps, as were his arms. Closing his eyes he forced his breathing to be steady as his mind raced. He ran a hand through what was now long glossy hair and felt a whimper come to him, though he beat it down-no crying! He was not going to panic!

Obviously something happened, something out of this world. His imagination soared that magic could perhaps truly be real, that somehow he had magicked himself away, that all those years of dreaming and wishing were not in vain.

Looking around he called out again, not missing now how his voice was small and soft, like a bell lightly chiming," Is anybody there?"

Seeing as how no one was going to answer him he began walking, though he found that he suddenly became even more clumsy than usual, starting back the way he thought he came from, hoping that he would somehow cross some threshold and return home to his uncle pondering. If magic where real, and he had suddenly transported himself away, why was alone? And why did he look and feel like a toddler? What was uncle Vernon going to say?

He suddenly tripped over the long tee and sniffled trying to keep his sobs under control. Did he even want to return to uncle Vernon, if he was able to return to Privet Drive that was. Biting his lip in a nervous manner he glanced about. It seemed to him, even if he did, he was nowhere close to home. He hugged himself harder, walking owns the grassy plane, and somehow he knew he would not go back. At least not yet. No he would stay here, wherever that was. But he didn't care much, despite the feeling of guilt twisted in his stomach at remembering that his uncle and aunt had at least been generous enough to feed, cloth, and house him when they had only wished for one child-Dudley- and had only taken him in out of kindness. He pushed the voice at the back of his head that tried to reason that there was no kindness in his relatives' actions.

Harry walked looking about the plain lands. There was the occasional trees here and there, but besides that it was mostly just grass, rock and earth. This made it easier to see farther distances, and Harry was presently surprised to see smoke in the distance off to his right.

He paused before turning his stride that way, ignoring the pain in his feet when he stepped on some sharp rocks. There was someone over there! He didn't know what he would say, or how he would explain that he had somehow appeared outside of his home, in a body that felt right to be in, but he knew couldn't be his own. Harry didn't even give these things a second thought, the knowledge he wasn't going to be alone to fend for himself in the unknown wild was enough for him.

Authors note: So what do you think? I am already writing two LOTR/HP crossovers, but unlike the my other two this one is going to be there for almost pure fluff. I already have this one and the sequel planned out, and chapter two is already half written. =) I just want to hear from you guys to hear what you think.

So is Harry headed off to a friend? A foe? Who do you think awaits the young boy? And yes, if you haven't guessed, Harry is an elf. =p I just enjoy doing that too much! 3 Also if you guys haven't read any of my other stories or my profile, I like yaoi, and I really like seeing Legolas and Harry end up together. Of course they will not in this story, but the sequel for sure =)

Well I'll post the second chapter later. I just wanted to hear your thoughts. =)


	2. Chapter 2

**Wishing for Sunny Skies**

**Chapter 2**

By the time Harry made it relatively close to where what seemed to be a small group of loud men chattering about a fire, laughing and shoving each other good naturdly, the sun had fully set and he was shivering fiercely, the moon giving him enough light so he could see that his breath came out in puffs.

Stumbling over, he slowed as he neared the camp. The men were all short, all with well grown out beards, and pointed hats. There were three that stayed awake near the fire as the rest retired off to cots, two darker haired ones were currently laughing loudly clapping each other on the back as the one with white hair sat across from him their amusement seemingly at his expense.

Worrying on his lower lip, Harry wondered if he should approach them. They seemed like nice men, if not dressed oddly in their chain mail and medieval looking garb, and he hoped they were in the mood to take in a strange boy. Though, he eyed the sword and axes lying near the men, he didn't feel too keen on surprising them.

He stood there for awhile, unsure of what to do. It was dark enough they didn't see him, thankfully clouds had swept up the half-moon filtering its light, and he was close enough that he could give a slight holler and catch their attention.

'they are the only ones that are around,' another shiver rand down his spine as he held himself tighter,' I may die without help.'

Fear of death lurked around him, as if it was his dark cupboard back at home calling for him and he decided to draw their attention by calling out. He opened his mouth, only to snap it shut again as a piercing blue gaze drew his way by the one with a white beard.

Harry held his breath, as the other squinted, as if willing the darkness to give way what it hid. He had noticed the white bearded dwarf gazing into the distance, seeming to survey the land not caring about the lack of light given. Harry had not expected him to focus his gaze in his direction, and he was sure he had been discovered.

The man frowned, wrinkles appearing on his large nose as if he was smelling something foul. Grabbing the sword by his side he stood heading in Harry's direction silencing the others. The white haired dwarf was slowly followed by the other two as they advanced with their axes, one quietly asking a question to the elder of the trio in a deep guttural language that Harry had never heard before.

"I thought I saw something shift in the darkness," murmured the snow haired one in English, though his accent was strange and Harry was sure he had never heard anything like it from England. The white bearded one's eyes squinted seeming to peer right through the blackness to Harry who stood heart hammering.

After a moment of the three standing in tense silence circling the camp at the edge of where the light flickered from the flickering of the fire they slowly made their way back, shoulders tense and eyes alert. They didn't lay their weapons down again once they sat and Harry doubted they would.

Shaking he began to back up; there must be others then these oddly short men, others whom were more pleasant in both appearance and manor. He turned and began to silently trek his way to where he had spied a wood, his eyes seeming to make out shapes better than the men who still sat spooked at the campfire.

'Where am I,' he mulled over everything that had happened to try and calm himself and keep control over he situation, shivering as he pulled the large shirt around him tighter willing it to keep some heat into his boney frame,' how did I get here? Could it be that-that magic is real?' he glanced around him fearfully as if his uncle would jump out and beat him for thinking such a thing,' it must be. It has to be, here is no logical explanation otherwise.'

Despite his current situation Harry couldn't help but smile a bit, knowing all those times when things had happened around him and he had wished it to be magic were not his imagination,' maybe there is someone out there for me.' He couldn't' t finish that thought as painful memories of his aunt and uncle telling him how worthless he was, how no one would want a bother like him and how he should be grateful for their acts of charity by giving him food, a roof over his head, and Dudley's old things.

"When I had heard my sister and her terrible husband died and you were alive," his aunt was telling him as she roughly scrubbed at his face – he had been pushed by Dudley into a mud puddle and his Aunt had been furious when seeing him mud into he house," I knew we had to take you in. No one else would want you. So," she scrubbed harder before gripping his arm painfully with her bony hands and forced him to look her in the eye," you better remember that next time you decide o play in the mud."

He shivered forcing he memory out of his mind willing himself to be in the present.

Harry had made it closer to the woods his hands so cold he had trouble unclenching them from their curled form under his arms and his tiny feet were numb and he was sure covered in blood and dirt. He looked up thinking how nice it would be to sleep in one of the tall trees, when a howl sounded off, causing the boy to shake than more from just the wind.

It had come from the woods and was soon followed by others. Frightened Harry began to back away, catching glinting golden eyes appearing between the branches. Turning he looked to where the camp lay, it was far enough that he could tell he would have to sprint for at least five minutes to reach it. The men that had originally been awake were now rousing the rest of their party as they all began grabbing weapons and lighting torches to better see their enemy. It was lucky for Harry the moon chose that moment to press out of the clouds and bath the field with its silvery light.

Gathering up his courage and forcing himself not to look behind his shoulder to scream at what was coming to him, he looked to the camp and let a shaky breath out.

He began to dash towards the camp at the same time a feeling of something jumping out of the woods and swipe at him came. He gave a startled yelp, pressing on harder as he felt his pursuers closing in on him much too fast, hot breath was on his heels and he looked desperately to where he saw several of the men pointing his way and shouting, though he didn't understand the guttural language they spoke in.

'I'm not going to make it!', he thought frantically as he ran to the group, shouting as a claw swiped at him causing him to stumble, 'I'm not going to make it!'

As if hearing his thoughts a claw hooked into the back of his leg causing a cry of pain to burst from his lips. This was more painful than any beating his uncle had given him and he didn't even care about the tears that burst unchecked as the words of how ungrateful Harry always was and how he could be going through so much more rang through his head.

'uncle Vernon was right,' thought Harry as he rolled to the side, missing sharp teeth only by inches tears streaming down his face as he pathetically sobbed trying to escape what seemed to be a very large wolf,' he was right! I want to go back home!' he silently begged for forgiveness from his large uncle, the man he had always wanted to push down a flight of stairs before leaving to a good home.

He was on his back and another wolf jumped at him, mouth gaping wide intending to take a good chunk out of him. But just as soon as the thought crossed Harrys mind that he was about to die, an arrow lodged deeply into the beasts golden eye, causing it to fly to the side with a yelp.

The bearded men were now battling the large wolves, some of which were rode by horrible looking creatures that couldn't be anything close to human beings. Large green eyes frantically shot from one fighting man to another before Harry forced himself to flip to his hands and knees, despite the pain that shot through his leg, and began crawling to the fire away from the battle gasping as one of the great wolves fell in front of him.

Giving off a shriek he backed away as its rider wriggled out from underneath it, snarling angrily.

It was tall with gangling arms and legs, ears pointed though the left looked as if it had been bitten half off. Piercings went across its brow, its eyes red alit with the need for blood. At Harry's scream he turned them hungrily to him.

"Elf child" it squealed, voice high with delight as it crouched bouncing in place," Oh I 'avent seen one o' them never. Bet its tasty" there was drool dripping down from that grubby gnarled chin, though that didn't matter to the monster.

"N-no," Harry suddenly felt himself snatched from behind by a large hand that was able to engulf his entire upper arm with no effort, and Harry found himself looking into one of darker haired men's snarling faces.

"Such a cowered to attack such a weak creature!" his voice carried disgust even though he had now set a protective arm over Harry's shoulder," How about trying me on for size."

The creature laughed, spittle shining in the moonlight as it sprayed from his mouth," What is this? A dwarf protecting an elf!? I never thought I would see the day!"

"Enough talking, where is the fight in yea?!" shouted the man and Harry could do no more than dart wide emerald eyes from the man to the creature.

Suddenly the man-or dwarf from what he had gathered- lunged, two axes that Harry had failed to notice before brought swinging with him. Harry watched, stunned as the man dodged a thrust from the foul creatures sword, used one axe to hook behind the creature to pull him in before swinging the other down on the juncture between the monsters shoulder and neck causing black blood to spray onto the man's face.

Grunting he dislodged the now choking creature who was slowly drowning in its own blood and looked back to Harry.

Harry hadn't moved, his wide eyes unable to pull away from the sight of the gaping wound, the creatures eyes wide as it lived the last few minutes of its life staring his way, though it seemed to be strait through him. He was trembling now like a leaf, though both fear and cold had been forgotten. His mind was unable to come up with a rational explanation to the day's events and the battle that was slowing around him as the last of the wolves and creatures made their way back to the dense wood, the rest of the men around him making quick work of those left

The man with the two axes had an unreadable expression on his scruffy face came over and Harry found it much easier to think about the way the man-dwarf he corrected himself- looked so odd rather than the death of some kind of unknown creature in an unknown land.

He wasn't very tall, none of the dwarves were Harry noted, with a black beard that reached to his belted waist, a few braids strewn about it. His brows were bushy, and nose was a bit large, eyes a deep brown but despite his harsh looks Harry sensed kindness. He knelt down to where Harry was standing, Harry only came to his waistline in his new shorter form and placed a strong hand on Harry's tiny shoulder.

"What are you doing in these parts young one?" his voice was deep and the accent as strange as the others. Was it some form of welsh?

"I-uh I," he blinked back tears, urging them not to fall and sniffled," I don't know. I was at home, with my-my uncle Vernon. Then. . .I don't know what happened. " He finished lamely wishing he could remember what to do in an emergency situation . What was the first step? Find an adult? Like a police officer? Well he did that, though he doubted there was any type of law enforcement around. Swallowing he remember his uncles harsh reminder not to cry, and he willed the tears back, only one rolling down his cheek unchecked.

After a moment of silence, the man seeming to ponder what he said as a few of the others started to gather around them causing Harry to shuffle nervously disliking the stairs, he nodded," Well that is odd," he began slowly," where is your uncles home? Is it Mirkwood?" the word was said with slight hostility, and Harry flinched back.

"No," he attempted to sound confident but his voice wavered," I have never heard of Mirkwood. I think I am very very far from home," his lip quivered and he took a shuttering breath," I was at my home, number 4 privet drive. Its in Little Winging," he looked hopeful to the company that had been watching the interaction with interest and looked desperately back to the man who shook his head reflecting the answer of those around him.

"I am sorry elfing, I have never heard of a place such as that," his frown deepened even more," is that from the west? I am not familiar with those lands."

Feeling a bit desperate Harry pressed on," It's in England, surely you know of England? I do not know what direction it is from here but. . .," at the confused looks Harry felt his stomach sink and black spots appeared in his vision.

"We do not know of this England," spoke a kind, old voice full of authority and Harry looked up to the white haired dwarf who had first spotted him in the dark," but we needn't an elf child in our company." He hummed and scratched his long white beard and looked the child up and down quickly before continuing," but we can speak of this later come," kindness softened his gaze and a slight upturn of his lips made his face suddenly seem less hostile and Harry limped over desperately hoping for the kindness directed at him," let us patch you up and come sit by the fire. We can continue to discuss this."

They made their way to the fire, the first dwarf with the two axes having latched them to his belt picked him up gruffly commenting that he needn't walk with an injury.

The two who had been speaking to him set to work patching up his leg and finding him some warm blankets that were thick hides of animals as the rest of the camp began settling down, building the fire up to a roar and a few seemed to take watch. They were on edge, and Harry didn't blame him.

He leaned heavily onto the dwarf with two axes, named Flói, and a large hand rested on his shoulder.

"You are tired, and rightly so young one. Rest, we will discuss how to get you home in the morning," Harry didn't need to really be told this as for his eyes had slid shut and his worried heart calmed slightly at the deep soothing voices of the men around him singing in the same language he hadn't understood before. It was beautiful, if not rough and slightly haunting, and it didn't take long for Harry to be lulled into a deep slumber while in Flói's arms.

Flói looked up with dark eyes to Balin who had been silently wondering what to do with the elf boy, and what to make of his strange story. But there was something else in those eyes, an angered look as he tucked a blanket about the small frame

"How could the elves allow one so young from their sight?" Flói finally asked what had been on all their minds It was no secrete how much the elves treasured their young, as for it was not often they had children. This one was odd, with jet black hair and enchanting large green eyes, small and skinny even for an elf," such a young one should not be exposed to such horrors." Perhaps he was being sentimental because saw his own dark haired son a bit too much when looking to the elf, though the only similarities they shared being the same shade of black hair and youth.

Balin hummed, as he had been much that night before brushing the child's brow eyes narrowing, "this child has seen more than his fair share of angry hands." His statement caused not only Floi but also some of the nearer dwarves to tense.

"What makes you think that Balin," asked a dwarf- Óin- who's hair was gold melding into a silver with age. He had finished tending to the fire but had been too uneasy to lay down and rest along with the others in their company. Already their journey had been riddle with danger, and this was icing on the cake. A strange abandoned elf child, alone in the wilds.

"The way the child holds himself, his reactions and voice," Balin shook his head having seen children who had went without love before," and this scar. Something about it speaks of a dark past." Balin brushed the hair back to show the ugly jagged mark, not mentioning the criss-cross white marks on the child's back as if he had been struck many times on several occasions.

The company frowned, obviously distressed by the information. No child, of any race, should have to undergo such a life style. It was understood that some may feel the dwarves tough on their own at times, teaching them the way of fighting early on and bringing them down to mine young, but that was not without love. Men were known to put their children to work young, also, but there was a clear difference in having your child help with a family business, and creating fear and pain in their lives.

"What are we going to do with the boy?" Frár voiced what they were all wondering.

Flói subconsciously held the boy closer," We certainly cannot take him with us. The road is far too dangerous for a child."

"It has taken us far too long avoiding that accursed Mirkwood to return to Erabor! We have almost reached the river crossing, there is no turning back now!" someone said and there were murmurs of agreement.

Another voiced growled," and we all know the 'grand king of Mirkwood' would never allow us to return to our quest once in his lands! He would not approve of us going to get the ring of power!"

A chorus of agreement swept through the party and Balin looked troubled.

"We certainly cannot take him to Mirkwood can we?"Balin murmured as if more to himself than the party.

Ori who had come to sit by his brother shook his head," After our last encounter I highly doubt they would invite us over for supper!"

There was a bellow of laughter from the group accounting the tale of how Thorin and company had escaped from Mirkwood on the group's way to the Lonely Mountain.

Something seemed to dawn on Balin and he continued, "But. . .the king was quite hospitable. And willing to negotiate."

"We have nothing the king would want!" Ori scoffed remembering that they indeed no longer held the precious gems that the king of Mirkwood treasured so.

Balin nodded," this is true. It is two days time till the edge of Mirkwood. We will have to hope the kindness of the king enough to allow our release. There is nothing we have over him."

There was some grumbling among the group but after some banter there were no better ideas. What to do with an elf child in the middle of the wilds on the way to the Mines of Moria?

"Then it is decided," Balin spoke finally as the argument died into a chorus of agreeing grumbles," Come dawn we leave for Mirkwood. Upon the edge of the forest we will set up camp and I will bring the child in to the King. Should I not return within two days' time, continue on without me. "

There was a silence that followed finally broken by Ori.

"We have one thing that the King of Mirkwood would want. We have one thing we can use to negotiate with," he looked down to the child sleeping fitfully, as if he his mind was filled with shadows that were out to get him.

"You can 'not' seriously mean we use a child as a bargaining chip!" growled Flói a glint entering his eye that warned the other dwarf his next words should be chosen with care.

Gaze still unwavering he continued," It is as we said; King Thranduil will never see it well that we return to Moria for the ring of power. So I propose we send a messenger in to notify the elves of the child, and have them come and collect the child with a small group. They will dare not follow us least have a battle on the planes, and they will be at a disadvantage with our numbers.

Some voiced agreement and others displeasure at his proposal, their voices echoed through the group and Balin seemed to be weighing this.

Frowning and looking down to the delicate child in his arms Flói growled," how do we know that he will not come to any harm from the elves? If it is as you said Balin then he hasn't been in good hands. "

"But he hasn't been in Mirkwood either," countered Ori," it is as if he isn't even from these lands. And who better to help him than his own people? There truly is no other option."

Flói looked between Ori and Balin," but to hold him as a mere tool of trade! I think it better we bring him into Mirkwood. The king isn't heartless, and our brothers in Erabor would seek to avenge us had he not allowed us to return on our quest. We needn't tell him why we wish to reclaim those halls! He will not question it, as for they are ours to reclaim!"

"No Flói," Balin finally spoke though he did it heavily as if he was still choosing his words," I believe that we need to put some more thought to it than that. . .the king of Mirkwood is no fool. He will suspect something such as the ring has come into play. Though," at Floi's obvious displeasure," I am not sure I agree with you either Ori. . . do we wish to use the boy as a bargaining chip? That makes us come off more hostile than we intend for it to, which to the elves would never be overlooked."

The group became silent once again and Balin continued, "We have two days until Mirkwood. We have until then to decide."

Author note: HI GUYS!*dodges rotten fruit*eeek sorry it took so long to update! Honestly I could have posted something a few days ago, but I felt you guys deserved a slightly more decent sized chapter because you were so patient in waiting AND SO KIND TO REVIEW! 3

I will admit one thing holding me up from updating was getting the newly released FFXHD :p I love final fantasy, and X was one of my favorites so I had to play.

Another thing was my hubby came home yesterday! Squee! So I get to spend some time with him before he leave for work again-meaning not as much writing this week as I normally would.

But it's OK! Because I already have the next chapter brewing away in my mind, and I have a pretty fair idea how it is going to go I just want to hear what YOU think is going to happen? It really could go anywhere. . . .lol

Well lemme know what you think! Someone mentioned I never write enough dialogue so I tried to add more in this chapter, and worried it may have strained when I was trying too hard. Please I would like to hear feedback on your opinions on my dialog balance within the story.

Ok thank you for reading, I hope I can continue to write something you all will enjoy!


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